


Forever Through The Eyes Of Fear

by Oaklin



Series: Forever Everything [57]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Constipation, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Mentions of minor characters, Stupid Boys Being Dumb, Swearing, UST, aggressive affection, and mean, bst, definitely aggressive though, jesus christ the aggressive... affection?, not sure if it is affectionate, obligatory Kevin Steen warning, poor Jack Evans, stealth angst, unless you count the whole table thing, which is like the least romantic thing ever, zero romance of any kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-11-22 12:39:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11380365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oaklin/pseuds/Oaklin
Summary: Sixteen wrestlers walk into a diner...No, this isn't the worlds worst set up for a joke.It's just another day, another table, another moment they don't know how to share...





	Forever Through The Eyes Of Fear

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello!
> 
> Okay, life is beginning to slam me face first into the ground a little less, this last week at least. Which is nice, as I had more writing time <3
> 
> Not sure if I should slap a violence warning on this one or not. It's not really graphic, or even SUPER violent or anything, but Sami is all fuzzy and sleepy and Kevin is- well. Kevin, if I am being honest, and it is kinda awful, with all the slightly endearing, achingly intimate yet horrifyingly alarming and scary actions that go with that. What I'm trying to say is that this is not fluff. Or romance. It is just fucked up bby!Steenerico shenanigans.

Kevin watches the employees of the tiny (no doubt severely under prepared) diner all share looks of uncertainty as the loud, rowdy group of wrestlers filters through the front door. Their faces fall, looks of something between fear and abject horror crossing their eyes, before they buck up and put on their company smiles. Kevin shakes his head, turning and grasping Sami’s arm, as Sami wobbles last through the door, lagging behind everyone as the little bell attached to the top of the door gives one last chime.

Homicide goes up and slams his hands enthusiastically down on the counter, already talking a mile a minute to the lady at the register, who looks overwhelmed, though to her credit, Kevin sees her trying to follow the man's belligerent yowling. B-Boy is laughing at something - _fuck knows what_ \- and slings his arm around Homicide’s shoulders, shoving a list into the other man's face and guffawing at the curse filled bitching out he gets for his actions.

Kevin shakes his head, holding in a smirk of wry contempt as Homicide grabs the stationary. Homicide squints at the paper in his hands and begins rapidly reading things off to the waitress, who still looks slightly out of her depth, as B-Boy reaches out with the arm not around Homicide's shoulders, and gets Teddy into a headlock that has Teddy screeching like a banshee.

(idiots, the lot of them)

Kevin turns away from the spectacle, turning around and tugging on the wrist still clasped in his fingers. Sami’s far away look snaps back into the moment, his eyes refocusing on Kevin. Something pulls at Kevin, something **rough** and with more _bite_ than he expected, as he gazes into hazel eyes that are just a little too **_dull_ ** for his liking.

“Stop spacing the fuck out,” Kevin orders, though Sami is doing his damnedest to wake up, clearly, though the little pale sleepy-head is evidently having more than a little trouble.

Sami perks up a bit, blinking rapidly and smiling tiredly at Kevin with an exhaustion that makes Kevin want to throw Sami into the rental and just go the hell back to the motel and let the slighter man sleep for however long he needs to. If only to make that _lifeless_ , battered look in his eyes **go away**.

(damn it)

“You are usually right up there with those idiots, making a mockery of yourself right along with them. What is the deal with you today?” Kevin asks, half rhetorically, as it is clear that the problem with Sami is that he is fucking tired as shit from that mother fucking elimination match he had gotten into with Jack.

(for some weird reason, recalling that little tidbit of information makes Kevin want to _**pound Jack’s face into the pretty diner tile**_ )

- _yeah_ -

- ** _weird_** -

“Tired,” Sami replies, rubbing at his eyes and wincing at bit as he shifts in place, leaning heavily against Kevin’s side.

Kevin opens his mouth to respond, **steeling** himself against the way Sami sighs softly, his breath grazing the skin of Kevin’s shoulder, making his flesh feel electric and sending searing waves of heat across his arm. Kevin tries not to tense up at the sensation, though he does flex his fingers, as the molten warmth sends little shock waves down his arm, causing his fingers to tingle, in a way that he cannot decide is either _pleasant_ , or the most **_unpleasantly painful_** thing he has ever experienced in his entire life.

(ok)

( **enough** now)

- _wait_ -

Kevin draws in a breath, deliberately (and somewhat reluctantly) yanking himself out of the reverie of self reflection and distractions of the flesh-

(no)

-bracing himself for the doe-eyed clingy-ness that he will no doubt have to endure (for fucks _sake_ ) for the rest of this afternoon. Kevin reaches out, shaking off the _**light aversion**_ with more authority than he was expecting, and clasps a hand around the back of Sami’s neck, steering the sleepy wrestler over to a booth, conveniently located far enough away from the others that Kevin can drown out their exited nattering.

(if only)

Sami of course, has other ideas. Completely _unsurprisingly_ (though, like most things with the gangly ginger idiot in question, still as **_resplendently distracting_** as ever) Sami goes along with Kevin’s guiding hand, following Kevin’s directions. Admittedly, he does so at a slow, sleepy, dragging pace, much to Kevin’s ire. Kevin is poised to complain about this, ready to snap at Sami with a blistering rant about how sluggish and worthless Sami is being, but his train of thought is once again cut off as, instead of keeping pace with Kevin, Sami lags behind and just kind of flops himself up against Kevin’s back, yawning obnoxiously as he slides along in Kevin’s wake, mumbling something that sounds - ** _way too much_** \- like Kevin’s name into Kevin’s shoulder blades, the words puffed out in little exhausted bursts that make the muscles of Kevin’s spine tingle.

(...this is **bullshit** )

- _hey, ever **wonder** what_ -

(No.)

“What did I tell Homicide to get me again? My brain feels like liquid bricks,” Sami groans against the back of Kevin’s shirt, the worlds spoken so close to Kevin’s skin that he can feel Sami’s lips moving against his shoulder blades, even through the shirt he is wearing.

(fuck)

“Well, that is not unusual. Your brain is always bricks," Kevin replies without thinking, trying to pull his mind away from the long winded purple prose it seems intent on focusing on today, much to his own aggravation.

- _so, **this** is_ -

(want-)

- ** _yes?_** -

(... _fuck_ )

“Chili fries and a malt,” Kevin supplies, flipping Dragon off when the man raises an eyebrow at him from across the room, a look of supreme amusement on the smug bastards face as Kevin drops down into the booth they had been shuffling towards for what feels like years. Dragon just smirks, like a _douche_ , and Kevin focuses on sneering at the prick so he doesn’t have to **feel** the bony elbows jabbing him in the ribs as Sami flops fluidly into the booth beside him, leaning heavily into Kevin’s side as he settles.

( ** _burns_** )

- _yep_ -

(no)

(hot)

- _yes?_ -

(shut **up** )

( ** _too hot_** )

( ** _hurts_** )

- ** _good_** -

( **NO** )

“Dang it, I was thinking about what _not_ to order. I must have been thinking out loud,” Sami sighs into Kevin’s shoulder, turning to give Kevin a pitiful look that is all _big hazel eyes_ and **mournful sadness** over something that is the epitome of first world problems.

“You do that a lot though, so it’s not like your crazy talking to yourself is anything out of the ordinary.”

Sami **_buries_ ** his face in Kevin’s shirt sleeve, pressing his forehead against Kevin’s shoulder, the muted, somewhat **agonized groan** he lets out giving Kevin what he swears are second degree _burns_ all across his bicep.

“I’m gonna fall asleep face down in chili. Do you know how hard it is to get chili out of **this** hair?”

- _well, if **he** is going to offer it up on a platter like that_ -

(fuck _this_ )

(and **fuck him** )

Kevin reaches over, brushing his finger tips against the unruly curls. Sami sighs softly against him and Kevin closes his eyes, getting momentarily _lost_ in the way the copper strands **slide between his fingers** , still slightly damp from the after match shower Sami just **_had_ ** to take before they left the motel.

(the goddamn diva)

“You are gonna catch a fucking cold, walking around outside with wet hair, you moron,” Kevin says, his voice coming out stronger and more stable than he had expected it to.

(not that)

( _wait_ )

( **shit** )

- _dumbass_ -

(...shut up)

“It’s fine. You are warm enough to keep me from freezing to death in this hellscape of seventy degree weather,” Sami says with a yawn, rubbing _his cheek_ against **Kevin’s bicep** like a cat **_marking_ ** it’s territory.

- ** _well then_** -

“The fuck,” Kevin grumbles, reaching over and grasping the back of Sami’s neck, shoving him forward until he is slumped over the table, his chest pressed to the table top. Sami barely reacts, doesn't even shove Kevin off, he just makes a slightly disgruntled noise and then tilts his head to gaze at Kevin blearily, his sleepy eyes turning lazily to blink at Kevin. Kevin holds his gaze for a **breathless heartbeat** , listening to the blood furiously pulsing through his veins, clenching and unclenching his fingers into the  _soft skin_ at the top of Sami's spine.

Sami says nothing, merely watches Kevin steadily, **_those eyes_** focused on Kevin, making his breath come up short and his heart race so fast that Kevin is sure that he will pass **right the fuck out** here and now.

(shouldn’t he-)

“You could stand to look more concerned than you do right now,” Kevin says, annoyed at how mild and unaggressive his own voice comes out of his traitorous fucking mouth.

Sami doesn’t even move, just sits there, chest pressed to the table top and his half lidded eyes focused tiredly on Kevin. For reasons that Kevin does not have words for, Sami’s disregard for Kevin’s actions makes him both irritated and irrationally pleased.

(which makes _no_ god damn sense)

(at all)

Fuck.

“I’m tired. Also, your touch feels nice,” Sami says, flashing a subdued smile at Kevin before dropping his eyes to the table, closing them as he _arches_ his **neck** under **_Kevin’s fingers_ _._**

( ** _the fuck_** )

( ** _is this bullshit_** )

- ** _want_** -

Kevin blinks, momentarily shocked into silence and inaction by the display, his palm **searing** as _Sami’s skin_ **presses** back _**into his**_. He can’t seem to control his own limbs, as before he has even realized he is moving, his thumb slides up into the shimmering little strands of fuzz at the base of Sami’s skull. Kevin grinds down on a helpless noise that claws at the back of his throat, digging his thumb into Sami’s skin as - ** _want_** \- courses through him with more **intensity** than he can deal with at the moment.

The though crosses his mind that this is Not Good and that he should probably remove his _hand_ before Not Good turns into - ** _take_** \- and this whole thing goes tits up for the **last time** -

( ** _fuck_** )

Sami’s _skin_ feels **molten** under the pads of _**Kevin’s fingers**_ as he rubs a thumb across the top of Sami’s spine and **breaths** in the moment of-

( _no_ )

( **can’t** )

Kevin grinds his teeth against the incessant peals of - ** _need_** \- pulsing through his blood stream as he digs his fingers into the scruff of Sami’s neck and pulls the _spindly_ , **resplendent distraction** up off the table. Kevin puffs out a breath, his chest tightening at the loss of a frankly _**great** _ view-

(No.)

-tossing Sami backwards until the idiot’s back hits the backrest of the booth with a muted thump.

It is less gratifying than Kevin thought it would be.

Sami just casts Kevin another unimpressed look, sliding down in the booth until he is slouched, his body spread out across the seat, his side pressed up against Kevin’s in the most obnoxious way possible. Kevin tosses him a halfhearted glare, rubbing furiously at his hand, the feeling of **_Sami’s skin_** seemingly **burned** into _Kevin’s flesh_.

( _Fuck._ )

“You could just say you don’t want me close. You don’t have to throw me away,” Sami mumbles, gazing up at Kevin through his fucking _goddamn_ ** _eyelashes_** (because of fucking _course_ ) from his slumped position. The little fuck even **scoots over** , pulling his brazen, sun-like heat _away_ from Kevin and dangling off the side of the booth like the weird, dumb gangly bastard that **_he_ _is_**.

Something about Sami’s actions incenses Kevin, for reasons that he does not give himself time to parse out. Instead, he snorts loudly, reaching over and wrapping an arm around Sami’s neck. Resisting the urge to do-

(he doesn’t even **know** anymore)

(none of this makes _any_ fucking sense)

- _forever_ -

“You are being so fucking melodramatic today. I'll just chock it up to you being exhausted, because of course you are from just one little match, you fucking lightweight,” Kevin punctuates his words by hauling Sami close, tucking him back against his side and clamping his still tingling hand around Sami’s forearm, refusing to even humor the particularly loud demands cycling through his skull at the current moment.

“You just sit there, and be quiet, and I will let you off the hook for acting like a crazy, clingy moron,” Kevin supplies, trying to tighten his voice around the wavery threads of pleading that are impossible to ignore in his tone.

“I will also save you from drowning in your own chili,” He adds as an after thought, the note of _pleading_ becoming more desperate, as he realizes this feels like he is pleading for **Sami** to spare him from fucking death or something.

- _forever_ -

(no one needs to be _saved_ from **forever** )

(that wouldn’t even make any **_sense_** )

- _it burns_ -

(well)

( _yeah_ )

( **but** -)

- ** _Forever_** -

“Doesn’t seem like you get anything out of this deal,” Sami grumbles, relaxing back against Kevin, like Kevin **had not** , not five minutes ago, slammed Sami _violently_ down on the table top and (sort of) **_threatened_ _him_**.

Kevin just shrugs, listening to Sami try desperately to stay awake, even as the little bony idiot cuddles up to him like the touchy-feelie fool that he is.

“I'll take one for the team,” Kevin replies, reaching out and brushing the tips of his fingers across Sami’s cheek, his pulse jumping around erratically when Sami freezes for a minute, before finishing the job that he had started earlier and going strait back to rubbing his cheek against Kevin, his scratchy, barely-pubescent peach fuzz rubbing against Kevin's hand in the most _uncomfortable_ of ways.

(the fucker is like an overzealous cat)

- _a ginger cat_ -

- _with a lap fetish_ -

(...nope)

- _hey wait_ -

(No.)

( **Fuck Off** )

“Mmhmm. You know, I didn’t really want to be in that stupid tournament,” Sami babbles drowsily, his voice fading off as he beings losing the fight with sleep.

Kevin raises and eyebrow, dropping his gaze to watch Sami fade into the abyss of dreams.

“Then who did you want to get in the ring with?”

(and)

(okay)

Kevin realizes, belatedly, that that is _kind of_ a stupid question.

A stupid question that Kevin could probably take a **wild stab** at the answer to.

- _now why **is** that, exactly?_ -

(no)

Not that knowing what is coming makes much _**difference**_.

As always, when Sami utters Those Words, Kevin just-

( _fuck_ )

(it still...)

- ** _burns_** -

Kevin _digs_ his **fingers** into the soft skin of Sami’s cheek, **_breathing_ ** through the words sliding out of Sami’s mouth, in his muted, sleep-swallowed lilt.

“You. I just always, _always_ want to step between those ropes with **_you_**...”

**Author's Note:**

> Great, Sami. Reward him. Excellent. And Kevin's not even making any sense any more? He just casually went back to letting Sami mark him up after freaking out about it the first time? I mean, I get it. His frame of mind was so blown out that he just sort of _reacted_ before he really accessed if he liked being nuzzled or not, that first time, but come on.
> 
> Whatever. bby!Steen gonna be weird and contradictory. And overly aggressive. Speaking of, don't worry. No Jack Evans' were harmed in the writing of this fic. He lives as does everyone else. Kevin is just trying to distract from his obvious soft spot ^.^
> 
> Hope you liked it and have a good week!


End file.
